


What Happens On Takodana (Stays On Takodana)

by doomtwinkie (shinysparks)



Series: The Force Between Us [3]
Category: Sleepy Hollow (TV), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Abbie Mills Is Working It, Abbie has force visions, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - A long time ago in a galaxy far far away, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Birthday Fic for Thymelady, Crack, Crack Crossover, Crack Treated Seriously, Crossover, F/M, Force-sensitive Abbie Mills, Hurt Ichabod Crane, I've had waaaaay too much caffeine, Ichabbie Forever, Ichabbie Weekend, Ichabod Crane Jedi Knight, When things go to hell I take refuge in a galaxy far far away, author is a huge sucker for happily ever after
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-02
Updated: 2016-09-02
Packaged: 2018-08-12 15:41:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7940059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinysparks/pseuds/doomtwinkie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Abbie shares a happy memory with a still-injured Crane.</p><p>Continuation of <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/6953797">Visions</a> and <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/6953605">Crash Landing</a>. Birthday fic for Thymelady.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this for Thymelady's birthday (HAPPY BIRTHDAY MY BESTIE!) I turned her into a Wookiee! And then self-inserted myself as a Mandalorian bounty hunter (it's not really a Mary Sue when you base the character on your worst traits, right? Right? ;) ) I've never done that before, but it was quite fun. But yeah. Angst! Crack! Backrubs! Golden bikinis and thongs! And lots of Ichabbie!
> 
> And I wrote nearly 5,000 words WTF?! :-O

Abbie Mills was not going to make it; of this, she was fairly certain.

Three more days, they’d told her. Three more days before Crane would be out of the bacta tank, and she was fairly certain she was not going to make it that long. It had been long enough already, she’d thought time and time again; however, the medical droids and physicians kept coming with minor injuries he’d suffered that extended his stay: a concussion, a few sprains, a cracked rib, and of course, the kidney that had all but fallen out.

It was the middle of the night, ship’s time, and Abbie couldn’t sleep.

She’d tried, of course. She’d tried for hours, but each time she shut her eyes, she was overtaken with horrifying visions of a planet being destroyed - Alderaan, she thought, even though it was preposterous. No one, not the Republic nor the Separatists, had weapons that powerful; and it wasn’t like a weaponless, idyllic paradise would ever be a military target, anyway. She told herself that each time she shut her eyes, and each time she awoke to visions of screaming, and then silence. Apparently, there would be no survivors.

When sleep failed, she went for a walk. It didn't help much.

The Jedi weren't helping, either, she thought as she plodded through the stark halls of the Star Destroyer they'd taken refuge on - or at least, having so many Jedi in one concentrated area wasn't helping. It seemed to be a hub of sorts, for Jedi out on missions for the Republic. Kenobi was there, as was Ahsoka Tano, the padawan who'd rescued them; and her master, Anakin Skywalker. Masters Plo Koon and Luminara Unduli had been there as well, along with Unduli's padawan, Barriss Offee. She'd caught sight of Quinlan Vos once (but, if Kenobi's happy-dancing had been any indication, Vos hadn't stayed long, though.) And there was Crane, of course. 

Abbie could sense them all, and it made her head pound. Everywhere she went, she could feel them, feel their essence. They radiated the Force. In some cases, as with Skywalker, they radiated the Force so strongly that it was stifling. It was stifling, and nauseating, and draining - like going for a swift, midday jog on a planet like Tatooine. Or Mustafar.

It made her miss Crane even more, too.

Whereas the other Jedi could radiate the Force like a sun, Crane was different. He was calmer, peaceful - his energy was as stealthy, it seemed, as he was. The rest of the Jedi were a hot sunny day on Tatooine. Crane was a cool, breezy night on her home planet of Lothal. She often forgot that he was even a Jedi at times - at least until someone tried to overcharge him Republic taxes on a haul of meiloorun melons. Then, he'd rant. And he'd rant. And her entire body would vibrate with the power of the Force.

"Or maybe it's not the Force at all," she muttered to herself, downing her third energy drink as she plodded through the halls, "maybe it’s something else."

She continued to walk until she found herself standing outside of his door. 

Visiting hours at the infirmary had been over for some time, and the medical droids had sent her out of the room. They’d ordered her to rest. She’d scoffed at that order. She’d protested. They’d locked the door behind her.

Abbie pressed the button on the panel, but the door was still locked tight. It beeped, and a red light on the panel flashed. She groaned loudly, and stood there for a moment, staring at it, eyeing it with rage. She had half a mind to kick it hard, to force the door to open, to let her in. She shook her head, and remembered that she was a bounty hunter. A smuggler. A scoundrel. And a Force-sensitive-almost-a-Jedi one, to boot. She chuckled. If she were going to perpetrate some good, old fashioned delinquency, she’d do it the right way.

She pulled a few tools out of the inner pocket of her jacket. Thirty seconds and a few loose wires later, the panel flashed green, and the door slid open. She smiled, and tiptoed in.

The room was dark, save for the brilliant blue light emanating from the tank. Crane floated inside almost lifelessly, his face frowning, and looking panicked. He’d panicked from the very moment they put in him the tank. He’d fought through sedatives just to make sure that she was alright, that the tiny scratch on her head wasn’t life-threatening. He’d flipped out, used Force lightning against a medical droid that had tried to pull her away from him - there would be consequences for that, she worried - only to endure the horrifying sensation of drowning as they dropped him into the bacta. He held her hand until the last moment, when stronger sedatives took hold.

That hand had drifted down into the tank, and rested against the glass. He’d balled his fist before losing consciousness, and it remained there.

Abbie touched the glass gently, resting her hand over his. She balled her fist, too. A fistbump through glass.

She could sense him strongly. She closed her eyes, and the cool night breeze on Lothal that she normally sensed from him, from his emotions; had turned into a strong wind - almost stormy. The sky was an impossibly deep midnight blue, and the stars in the sky above shown red. It unnerved her a bit, sensing his unease. And the longer they stayed connected, the stronger the wind seemed to blow, and the red stars she imagined became brighter - almost violently so. Clearly, he could sense her unease, as well, and it was agitating him.

Abbie took a deep breath, and tried to focus. She’d never been that talented with the Force, save for annoying and terrible Force visions and a certain penchant for psychometry; however, she was still Force-sensitive, enough to be a Jedi, if that’s what she chose (and she hadn’t.) She calmed her mind, and pushed outward with her emotions; pushing through the walls of the tank, through the bacta, into Crane. The wind calmed. The stars dimmed.

And then she played back a memory; a memory of a happier moment:

"Do you remember that time on Takodana, Crane?"


	2. Chapter One

He was drunk as fuck.

Ichabod Crane staggered through the forest, leaves crunching underfoot as Abbie held onto him tightly. She tried to keep him upright - something that she failed at with each passing step. She sighed heavily, staring up at the moonlight. It was a cool, Autumn night on Takodana, and it was a beautiful one... well, save from the near constant hiccuping and slight smell of vomit coming from her partner in crime, of course.

"Fucking Mandalorians," Abbie thought to herself.

Abbie had hated this mission since the very first moment Quinlan Vos h ad dropped it in their laps like a steaming hot turd. Fly into Separatist space and make contact with an informant with valuable information? That was easy. Trying to pretend they were not Jedi on such a mission had been a tad trickier - at least for Crane. But Vos' insistence that they bring along two other bounty hunters for backup? That had been, as far as Abbie was concerned, an uncommon disaster.

They were nice enough, of course. Katarrr, the Wookiee with the fringe over her goggle-covered eyes, had been very welcoming and friendly to both of them. In fact, both she and Crane had received a multitude of huge, furry hugs from the amiable Wookiee; though, Abbie couldn't help but notice that most of the hugs had been a tad bit more touchy-feely than hugs normally are. They were cuddly, and loving, and warm. There had also been six ass-grabbings, at least, between her and Crane; a few accidentally-on-purpose feels in sensitive areas; and Katarrr was seemingly more fond of stroking Crane's beard than he was.

"So like, do the two of you bathe in Wookiee pheromones or what?" Katarrr's Mandalorian co-conspirator, Jae, had joked as Crane squeaked after a rather intense, furry-handed bottom pinch. Whereas Katarrr had been fond of hugs, Jae apparently did nothing but talk, and talk, and talk. Something that Abbie had quickly commented on. 

"I'm actually more worried about our Jedi friend here, than I am my incessant sass mouth," Jae told Abbie, pushing her bright green-streaked hair out of her equally bright green eyes. "These people we're going to see? They're not fond of Jedi. If you're caught, Icky, you can expect to be ransomed back to the Council... _at best._ At worst, you'll end up as someone's pet on Nal Hutta, and will spend the rest of your life dancing around in a golden thong with a chain around your neck."

The Wookiee had then burst out in a torrent of low growls and guttural noises.

"Yes, I know. I mean, I know you'd enjoy that, but I don't think they would. No, I know you have that gold bikini and thong set you bought on our last trip to Coruscant," Jae muttered to her Wookiee comrade, "But, I really don't think they'd be up to modeling them for you later."  
 _"Mooooooo..."_ Katarrr muttered.  
"Look, I'll see what I can do, but no guarantees here."

Abbie had eyerolled in reply. In fact, she'd spent much of the remainder of the day eyerolling (along with being petted heavily by the Wookiee - enough that she made a mental note to check the water system on the Witness for Wookiee pheromones.) What concerned her, though was the effect that another Mandalorian seemed to be having on Crane.

It had been nice at first, for him to be able to chat with someone that had so much in common. Though they were from different clans, they shared the same house; and both had been exiled from Mandalore when the New Mandalorians had usurped government control and traded their proud, warrior culture for complete and utter pacifism (both cursed their new government in Mando'a, in fact.) They discussed armor and weapons for quite a while; in fact, Crane had been extremely excited by Jae's gauntlet that doubled as a flamethrower before Abbie had been forced to remind him the Jedi Order would never let him have one in a million years. After that, they compared scars.

"Strill," Crane said, pointing to the long scar on his chest proudly.  
"Shriek-hawk," Jae replied, pulling up her pants leg and showing him the scar on her leg. She then wiggled a finger at him, "and this is from when they had to reattach my finger after that rathtar attack..."

Abbie had groaned, watching them. She'd have been far more stressed, but surprisingly, the Wookiee gave really great back and shoulder rubs. "Not sure why I needed to sit on Katarrr's lap to do this," Abbie had thought to herself, "but whatever."

The longer the conversation went on, though, the more Abbie could feel a shift in Crane. The air around him changed, and she could sense he was feeling less and less comfortable. Abbie noticed him picking at his Jedi robes as if they were itchy and ill-fitting, as he eyed Jae's armor longingly (and the shriek-hawk eyes on her helmet even more so.) He was Mandalorian, yes; but he'd been raised a Jedi. He'd always been at odds there, never quite being able to balance his past with his present and what his future would no doubt be; however, that imbalance seemed to get worse by the moment. A need within him began to grow: a need to prove himself as a Mandalorian.

"Wow. Two Mandalorians together and one with a need to prove himself. How could that ever go wrong?" Abbie thought, rolling her eyes. She began to worry, but it quickly went away the moment Katarrr gave her a neck massage that felt so good she nearly went blind with pleasure.

What began with a simple shooting contest (they tied,) turned into an arm wrestling contest (they tied again,) turned into a drinking contest in the middle of Maz's Castle that evening. The prospect of watching two Mandalorian bounty hunters (Crane was pretending on the latter,) try to drink each other under the table had created quite a stir. Maz, herself, began taking bets.

After the fourth shot of Flameout, Crane didn't mind it when Katarrr persuaded him onto her furry lap. After the sixth shot (and at Abbie's suggestion,) he consented to a back, neck and shoulder rub of his own. After the ninth, he didn't even notice when the Wookiee began to braid his hair...

The contest had ended soon after.

"Fucking Mandalorians!" Abbie muttered audibly this time, snapping back to the present as Ichabod accidentally stepped on her foot.  
"Huh?" He mumbled, blinking one eye, and then the other.  
"Nothing," Abbie said, shaking her head.  
"Leftenant?"  
"Yeah, Crane?"  
"Did I... _hic..._ did I win?"  
"No, Crane."  
"I recall she vomited." He said, with another hiccup.  
"She did, about three seconds after you did. Maz said it was close enough to be a tie." Abbie explained.  
"Then how did I...?"  
"You passed out. In your own vomit." Said Abbie, with a slight moan, "when you fell, the back of your pants slid down and you mooned half of the bar. I think Maz made a video."  
"Ah." Crane said, flushing. He wiggled out of her grasp, and inched himself towards a nearby tree, leaning up against it. He hung his head, and the disheveled and slightly vomit-sticky braids on either side of his head fell into his face. He sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose and saying nothing.

"You alright?" Abbie asked after a few moments.  
"I did not intend to lose."  
"You _barely_ lost."  
"I still lost."  
"Yes, you lost a silly drinking contest, got cuddled, massaged and braided by a Wookiee and managed to shut up a sarcastic, near-incessantly chatty bounty hunter for longer than ten seconds." Abbie said, "I'm not sure I call that a loss, not really."  
"I lost, and for the honor of my fallen clan, I should not..."

Abbie cut him off with a loud groan and a wave of her hand. Crane hung his head.

"If it helps, you've got way better scars, Crane - scars of a true warrior," Abbie said, before blushing hard. She prattled on, "yours are better placed and... you know, additive." She touched the tiny scar on his forehead with her finger, "they suit you."

Crane stared at her, his blue-gray eyes vibrant and shining in the moonlight. A cool breeze blew through the trees, rustling the leaves. Strands of hair that escaped from the two braids drifted across his face, and petals from the flowers the Wookiee had stuck in there for decoration floated downwards, carried by the wind. It was the air, though, that Abbie noticed the most. It had become charged again, tingly, as if something was about to happen.

"Crane, so help me, if you're about to vomit again..." She began to speak.

But, he didn't. Instead, he puckered his lips and closed his eyes, reaching over to kiss her; however, Abbie put her hand up to his face, and pushed him back into the tree.

"Oh no. No, no, no." She told him, "you are not kissing me like this."

Crane stared at her, dumbfounded and slightly crestfallen. He opened his mouth to speak, but Abbie quickly shushed him.

"You're drunk, Crane. Second, you're a Jedi, and this kissing business is completely forbidden!" Abbie yelled, causing him to wince, "and third, your toothbrush is back on the Witness, and you are _not_ kissing me until you use it!"

Crane blinked.

"Sorry," he said with a hiccup, "sorry, I was overcome with... and, and then, I thought it might help to ease the blow..."  
"Ease what blow?" Abbie stared at him, "Crane, what did you do?"  
"I... I may have made a wager of my own." He mumbled, "With Jae. Tomorrow is Katarrr's birthday, or so I'm told."

Abbie eyed him dangerously.

"If it involves a golden thong, a golden bikini and a Wookiee, I may shoot you, Crane." She said, pinching the bridge of her own nose, "I may just shoot you."


	3. Chapter Two

If anything could be said for the golden bikini, it was that Abbie Mills looked exceptionally hot in it.

She eyed herself in the mirror in the basement of Maz’s Castle, where Katarrr’s birthday party was being held, and smiled contentedly. It looked so good on her, in fact, that she had half a mind to offer to buy the gold bikini for herself. After all, there were certainly plenty of worlds out there with nice, sandy beaches where such an outfit would come in handy; not to mention, the effect it might have on poor Crane would be hysterical. "Would serve him right for this..." She mumbled to herself.

From upstairs, she could hear the laughter and the exclamations of Maz’s mostly drunken patrons trying their best to speak well-wishes in Shyriiwook. Abbie shrugged. She didn’t know enough of the Wookiee language to know if they were successful in their wishes or if they were just the random screeches of the severely inebriated. She shook her head, and then reached over and took a bite of the birthday cake that Jae had sent down to them. It was good cake. In fact, it was good enough, that she reached over and stole Crane's cake as well. With the hangover he’d awoken to earlier that day, he wasn’t in the mood to eat anything, anyway.

Crane had not emerged from his side of the curtain, however. She could hear a few moans and groans from the hugely hungover Jedi; and she was certain he was sitting down, his pounding head between his bare legs and wishing he could time travel to the day before; and subsequently kick his own ass for such a wager. Abbie was also quite certain that every single part of him was currently flushing bright red.

"Alright, Crane," she said, "show yourself."  
"Mmmrrrf." He mumbled.  
"Don’t you _mmmrrrf_ me. You can either show yourself right now, or I am going to start yelling. And then I’m going to get Maz down here, and you know how loud she can get."

Two seconds later, he emerged squinting in pain, his face bright red and wearing far less clothing than Abbie had ever seen him wear. She tried her best to stifle a giggle as she eyed him up and down. The temperature in the room seemed to go up a few degrees on the spot.

Crane took one look at her and just about fainted right then and there. His face flushed an even brighter shade of red, and he shifted back and forth on his feet. The already tight, golden thong he wore seemed to be growing even tighter by the second.

"Spin around. I want to see the full effect here." Abbie told him, smiling.  
"I’d...I’d prefer not." He mumbled, trying to find his voice.  
"Hangover?"  
"That, and the fact this blasted garment is apparently only one-sided." He said, "unless a tiny string can be counted as a ‘side,’ of course."  
"Plus, his bum is even more red than his face," a voice said, as the door to the room opened.  
"Hello, Maz." Abbie smiled as the diminutive, bespectacled alien host entered the room, a long package in her arms.  
"Maz." Crane noddled stiffly, fingers wiggling at his sides.

Maz slapped him on the bottom in jest, causing Crane to jump and "mmmrrrf" a second time.

"They’re nearly ready for you two upstairs," Maz said, before thrusting the box into Crane’s arms. "Jae sent you this. Said it might come in handy."

Ichabod took the box, and she slapped him on the rear once more for good measure. She smiled. He mmmrrrff-ed a third time.

"Just come on up when you’re ready," Maz said with a nod, before she left, closing the door behind her. 

Crane sighed heavily, still holding the box.

"This is too small to hold the other side of these blasted underpants, isn’t it?"  
"Probably, Crane." Abbie said with a sigh, before pulling the note off the box. She opened it, but it was written in Mandalorian script. She gave it to Crane, "but open it anyway, alright?"

He nodded, taking the note.

"To Ichabod of Clan Crane, son of Mandalore, who fought a vicious strill barehanded and lived to tell the tale," Crane read, pausing to smile. Abbie eyerolled. Even in writing, Jae couldn’t stop talking.

The letter continued: "regardless of your current state in which you find yourself in (hope the thong isn’t too tight, Icky, judging from your fingers, of course;) a Mandalorian should always wear armor. Sod the Jedi and their rules. If they don’t like it, they can go..." he paused, eyes growing wide.

"What?" Abbie asked.

"Oh, it’s just something about how they can fornicate with the back side of a flatulent bantha." He said, "and that Master Yoda looks like something she once pooed out after eating too much cabbage."  
"And it’s three paragraphs long?"  
"There’s a lot of adjectives, and she’s very thorough with the insults. Also, as you pointed out, she’s quite verbose." He said, reading a bit farther before snickering.

Abbie raised a curious eyebrow (along with making a mental note to learn Mando’a.)

"What’s so funny?" She asked.  
"She knows Kenobi. She doesn’t like his face." Crane replied, grinning.

Abbie took the note from him.

"Open the box, Crane."

He nodded and took the box from her. Grabbing at the string that held it together, he slid it off and tossed it to the floor. The moment he loosened the top, he knew. And he smiled.

Inside the box were two Mandalorian-style gauntlets, painted in tan with light blue details - jedi colors - and there was a small, barely noticeable Jedi sigil on each arm. Crane inspected them carefully, noticing the button on top. Gently, he pressed it, and two small barrels popped out of the top. He chuckled like a child with a brand new toy.

He turned and stared at Abbie, and once again, she felt the air between them become charged and tingly - tingly enough that the hairs on her bare arms stood up. She half-worried he might be about to vomit again, but instead, he took one of the gauntlets and offered it to her, smiling.

"I would be honored, Leftenent, if you would share my armor."  
"Is... is that a euphemism, Crane?" She asked with a wink.

He stared at her, a little dumbfounded. Abbie shook her head. Such things were often lost on Jedi, after all.

"I would be honored, Crane." She then said.

Crane placed the gauntlet on her right arm and tightened it to fit her properly. She smiled, and fingered it carefully, before pressing the button on the top.  
"Flamethrower?" She asked.  
"Flamethrower." He replied, grinning.  
"Nice."

Abbie turned and inspected herself in the mirror. "Hot AND badass," she thought, eyeing her reflection, "and the gauntlet even somewhat matches the bikini. Yeah, I’m totally keeping this thing." 

Crane put on his own gauntlet, and when she turned back around, she found him holding his arm out to her, fist balled. She chuckled, and did the same.

They fistbumped, and it was good.

"I suppose since we are ignoring the rules of the Jedi at the moment, what with me wearing and using forbidden technology and armor," Crane then said, offering a smile, "I should probably inform you that I am no longer inebriated."  
"Yeah, I figured that, Crane..."  
"I should also inform you that I have brushed my teeth."

It took Abbie a brief moment before she understood what he meant. By then, her mouth had dropped open a bit, just as he reached down and kissed her hard on the lips. She didn’t push him away this time.

Instead, Abbie kissed him hard, opening her mouth a bit further, and slipping her tongue into his mouth. He did not protest in the slightest. She grabbed onto his body, pulling him close to her. He was warm, and tingly. The Force was strong with him, and it was strong with her, and it was strong between them. As soon as she thought about it, he wrapped his arms around her tightly her; and without thinking, she did the same with him. She hugged him close, and her hands caressed his back down, and down, and down... until her hands found themselves cupping something a bit... squishy.

Her eyes shot open. And his eyes shot open. And they both looked down at where her hands were. She looked at him, and him at her.

"Sowwy." She mumbled, slipping her tongue out of his mouth. "I forgot about the... one-sidedness of your... yeah."  
"It was not..." He mumbled in reply, cheeks bright red, "I mean to say, it was not altogether... um... if you wished to continue, you could... it would not be... unwelcome."

Abbie smiled at that, and grabbed his ass cheeks hard in her hands and squeezed. He offered another "mmmrrrff" - a playful one this time. She laughed, and so did he.

"We keep this up," she said, "and we’re totally going to be late to the party. I know how you are about punctuality, Crane."

"I think I can make an exception, this time," he said with a smile, kissing her hard once again...


	4. Epilogue

"Raaaaaahhgh?" Katarrr said, as she and Jae shuffled down the stairs.  
"I know, right? I mean, how long does it take to get changed?" Jae complained, following her friend, "I could’ve sworn Maz said they’d already put on the shiny underpants..."  
"UUUUURRRG AAAAAAH?"  
"Steamingly so, according to Maz. Though she did warn that dear ol’ Icky is blushing everywhere there’s exposed skin."

The Wookiee giggled excitedly.

"Maz also said that Icky has a rear so fine, she’s not seen the like in nearly eight hundred years. And she said that if she’d didn’t already know Abbie, she’d have sworn that a goddess had descended on the castle."  
"UUUUUUUMA!" Katarrr exclaimed happily, flailing a little, as they reached the door.

Jae banged on the door with her fist hard.

"Are you two ready yet?!" She yelled at the door. No reply came. She banged again. Nothing. 

"Ah, hell with it," she muttered, giving the door a good swift kick with her foot.

_BOOM!_

"Oh, fuck!" Jae yelled, her eyes wide as she caught sight of Abbie and Crane. She turned away, her hand over her eyes. "Fuck, fuck, FUCK!"  
"RAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRR!" Katarrr screamed, as if to say "literally!" She did a little happy dance, and clapped her furry hands furiously.

"SHUT THE DOOR!" Crane screamed at them, looking shocked and exasperated, from the rug on the floor. Abbie was sitting on him. Both were sweaty, and panting hard. Their golden underwear was nowhere in sight.

Abbie growled nearly as loudly as a Wookiee, and thrust out her hand in front of her. She winced, forced herself to concentrate, and reached out through the Force with all of her might (which ended up being a lot more difficult, what with Crane’s hand where it currently was.) The door slammed hard in their faces.

Jae turned back and stared at the door for a moment, eyes wide open. Her bottom lip wobbled slightly.

"Welp," she finally spoke, her voice a little shaky, "I have a sudden, powerful need to get hammered again. You coming, Katarrr?"  
"MUUUAWA."  
"Okay, suit yourself. I’ll be upstairs then." Jae said with a smile, walking off.

Katarrr turned back towards the door, listening to the heavy breathing going on within. There was a tiny crack in the wood an inch above her head, damage done from Jae’s kick and the Force-related door slam. Carefully, she tiptoed next to the door, leaning into it gently and sticking the lens of her goggles to the crack. Katarrr giggled quietly as she peered into the room, watching the scene within.

It was the best birthday ever.


End file.
